


Shadows of the Past

by Dream_Wreaver



Category: Edna & Harvey (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Feeling Chained to the Past, Feelings of Helplessness, Psychoanalysis, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Traumatic Experiences, character exploration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-08 16:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17389514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Wreaver/pseuds/Dream_Wreaver
Summary: They never found the Keymaster, because he disappeared in plain sight. But when Edna returns to her hometown, trying to find herself and what she wants to do with her future, she'll find he's not the only shadow of her past she has to face.





	1. In the Interim

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm about a hundred years late to this fandom, but I've had this idea on my mind for a little while and wanted to share it with you. Basically, we know the Keymaster is never found if you pick the ending in canon with Harvey's New Eyes. As such, the events of HNE leave a few spaces in the text that I thought I would play around with. Hope you enjoy!

The world is full of violent, depraved, and absolutely psychotic people. And yet, no matter how deep the well goes, you never hit rock bottom. There are people who are ill, but how ill they are is a spectrum depending entirely on who is judging whom. Even so, there are certain lines that even insane people would flinch at crossing. And those who are willing to cross them are considered beyond redemption. The Keymaster was a lot of things, he was crazy, he was manipulative, he was a cold-blooded killer. But he would never prey on children. Not in any way, not until Edna. But then again, Edna was unlike anybody. Who else could have been resilient enough to withstand Dr. Marcel’s countless electroshock treatments, all done under the name of memory erasure. Who else would be cunning enough to break out of their cell time and time again, recovering her memory and bruising the doctor’s ego beyond repair. Who would remain true to her word and set a man in solitary confinement -and for good reason too- out of his cell and into the wide world of freedom? Who would have the brass to defeat him long enough so that she could escape and get to her destination?

Edna was a marvel, of that there could be no doubt. The only problem was, he still wanted revenge. Revenge for the trust she had naively put in him, revenge for the poor reverend he had struck down because of that trust, and revenge for the way she had left him broken and bloodied and close to death. He had only narrowly regained consciousness and managed to escape, limping and likely leaving a trail of blood in his wake. He blamed her, just like he blamed her for the reverend’s death. How dare she let him out? Didn’t she know he,  _ they _ were in that asylum for a reason? Doctor Marcel was a sick and sadistic man, but he didn’t go out of his way to incarcerate the people he hated. And speaking of the Doctor, the Keymaster had managed to spot the man as he wandered into town. He was walking with a purpose, he knew where he was going. Edna had mentioned returning to her childhood home, her father’s house. And Doctor Marcel knew Edna better than anyone, so he of all people would know where to find her. Of course, given that the Keymaster had likely sustained several major injuries thanks to his little tumble courtesy of one Miss Edna Konrad, following him close enough to catch anything was impossible.

He did, however, manage to find one impossibly abandoned home which he claimed as his hideout for the time being. Time had not been kind to the building, it stood condemned and forgotten and falling apart. But aside from that, it was untouched. No tagging or graffiti, no rings of dust from missing items that had been looted, not even a single homeless person -aside from himself that was. And that? That was due to all the flashing lights surrounding it. Naturally he wanted to stay away, but curiosity and some innate sense this was connected to the girl he was looking for prompted him to stay. The doctor was brought out on a stretcher, groaning in pain and anger, cursing the name of Edna Konrad to all who would listen. One of his eyes looked damaged as well. Hmm, so this house had something to do with Edna. The Keymaster slipped into the basement and waited there until everyone had left. When the debris had settled he explored the rest of the house. In what looked to have once been a masculine bedroom he discovered a small photo of a girl. A girl with purple hair and the unmistakable glint of mischief in her eye. No doubt about it, what he had to be looking at a younger version of Edna. Because the house was so long abandoned but otherwise untouched the Keymaster decided to make it his hideout for the time being. It was relatively close to the village, relatively far from the asylum, and people rarely expected escapees to remain so close to their place of escape, namely because it was the first place people would look for them.

Months passed. Months of him staring at that picture of that hated little girl, swearing he would find her, and make her pay. For him, Edna became an obsession. The only problem was that the picture of the young child was all he had left to identify her with now. The image of the young woman who had set him free from his cell was supplanted by this mischievously innocent and naive child. But he still hated her with a passion. His wounds healed, likely not correctly, but he couldn’t exactly take the risk of going to the local hospital and getting them treated, not until he found a way to assume an entirely new identity. Of course, for such things you needed money, and getting money under the table was always the hardest thing to do if you didn’t know where to look. So for now, he was stuck, stuck unless he could break back into the asylum, find his files and forge a release paper from Doctor Marcel. Yeah, he had about as good a chance of that as he did of finding Edna. He’d heard the rumors, that nothing but the remnants of her little ragdoll companion had been found near the lake and that the girl had likely drowned as she wandered around dazed and confused. Though, the Doctor didn’t seem to believe she was dead either…

But luck had a funny way of working out. The Keymaster often took walks around the village near dusk, when he was the least likely to be recognized. It was his form of rehabilitation, as well as gathering necessary supplies. The bar was a quiet place, but the bartender -tough as he seemed- was quite unobservant, at least, he was compared to Maxmixo, the former tender. Swiping supplies, be they barfood or liquor, or even a bottle of water on occasion, it was just too easy. The clothes he’d found in Edna’s former home, likely belonging to her father, suited him well enough, as old and slightly moth eaten as they were. But he was taking his walk, parsing out the bar when he thought he saw activity at the top of the hill. Strange, this sleepy little town and its residents rarely saw fit to leave, even extend themselves to the city’s limits. Not unless there was a small tragedy and a child found themselves without any place to go. But shipping off orphans to the convent was an incredibly rare occasion, rarer than a resident choosing to leave. He caught a glimpse of someone heading down to Moor Lake, the same lake Edna had supposedly perished in. But why go there? He wanted to follow, felt that following would give him the answers, the closure he sought. Yet the pang in his stomach reminded him of his hunger. He robbed the bar again, curiously noting a sweet looking little girl entering through the front of the establishment, clutched tightly in her little hands was a single ball of embroidery wool. She wore the uniform of the convent school.

Strange, what was a sweet little girl like her doing so far from home? And more importantly, why did the same type of chaotic and psychotic waves roll off of her as they had off of Edna? The Keymaster didn’t stop to think about it. He couldn’t risk finding out, people would notice him and he spent too much time trying to keep himself away from them. He couldn’t let what had happened to the reverend happen again. He was dangerous, so he’d traded the cell of the asylum for the one in that old and rotting house. At least that one he could leave at any time. Perhaps what he’d wanted wasn’t freedom in all its glory, but the freedom to step outside his limited world, beyond the four walls of his padded cell with its heavily reinforced glass window. Edna had been the storm that rocked his world with her competence and capability. She should never have done it, he hated her for it, and yet, he was glad she did. The Keymaster went home and stared at that picture of the little girl in the dim light of the moon shining through the open hole in the roof. Edna, Edna, Edna, her name beat through his mind like his very pulse. Where was she, what had happened to her, why did he even care? The rumors of her death had greatly disturbed him, despite his hatred towards her. Or maybe, maybe it had been because of his hatred toward her. She was his equal, the lock for him to pick, meant to be struck down only by his hand. How  _ dare _ she be taken down by something as insignificant as a body of water? It was an insult to both of them, for her to have such an ignoble death as that.

The bartender had died that night. The Keymaster wondered how. On a night like that, rarely anyone in the village went to the establishment. The only one anyone had seen, as a matter of fact, had been the little girl. The Keymaster remembered the glimpse of her he’d caught, the strangeness emanating off of her, the same strangeness, that penchant for chaos and destruction and ruin that had matched wavelengths with him and Edna. Had she had something to do with it? It wouldn’t have surprised him if she had. Edna, the small child, one who wasn’t crazy could look at that photo and only see a sweet little girl. That blonde child had been the same. There were more rumors too, rumors from the guards, rumors of that self-same girl storming the path to the asylum, taking on the Phantom, taking on Doctor Marcel himself. Her voice had echoed with an anger and authority the Doctor had long since lost. She’d screamed at the head of the institution until she was hoarse, then she’d returned to Edna’s cell where the Abbess of the Convent School had been “treated” into carrying out the doctor’s plans, knife still in hand, and then come out. Two others had joined her, one of them had been police. Doctor Marcel had been taken in for malpractice. The asylum was still running, mostly because they had nowhere else to put the patients.

One might wonder how he had found out all of this. Well, the death of the bartender had provided a relatively unique opportunity for the Keymaster. A way to escape his old life completely. He’d taken up the post for himself. It wasn’t that hard, not with all the casing and surveillance he’d done on the place. The Keymaster, as far as anyone was concerned, had died as well. The new bartender was a local who’d moved out for university and life in the city, but missed his hometown and had coincidentally moved back at the right time. Edward Keyes was a quiet, soft-spoken man, with that same sort of unhinged aura about him that gave him absolute rule over his little establishment.

His desire to kill, to hurt, that had always been a bad combination of intrusive thoughts and a lack of a mental block distinguishing them from his own, and one preventing him from carrying them out. He enjoyed killing, but more as the satisfaction of idle curiosity. He knew he was sick, but the naturally terse atmosphere of a bar provided a reasonable outlet for that aggression. Many a cheap bottle of beer had been broken over some poor sap’s skull when they didn’t follow his rules. It was cathartic, in a way. His emotional outbursts had stimuli, no one minded if he needed to break someone’s skull open to keep the peace. And if he didn’t? Well, there were plenty of knives to stick into that pile of firewood down in the basement. And plenty of animals in the forest.

His customers were just like Doctor Marcel, they couldn’t hide anything from him. Most didn’t want to. And he got paid hand over fist for a glass of booze and a (seemingly) sympathetic ear. The Keymaster was no more, He was Edward Keyes, the local bartender who’d taken up residence in that abandoned old house and was given it by the village, so long as he fixed it up. Edward thought, why not? He was certainly making enough money, and it offered him a cell of his own. Three more years passed in this fashion, a fool might have thought he was on his way to recovery. But no one except Edward knew how he stared at that picture of Edna every night. How the feelings in his head and his heart morphed from an obsessive rage to an obsessive desire just to know she wasn’t dead. Two of his regulars, Bladder and Newbie -as he had known them back in his days of incarceration anyways- once reminisced over how they had caught her one time, at least, they thought he had. Edward had nearly dropped the bottle he was pouring from, and the glass he’d been pouring into. Thankfully, his back had been to them, they couldn’t see his reaction. He often thought it a wonder they didn’t recognize him. But then again, he reasoned, no one came to the bar to find out its proprietor’s life story. They wanted a drink and an ear to listen to em, that was about it. And he had changed his appearance, however slightly. With the money he’d saved he’d been able to turn the water back on, and thus enjoy a hot shower every so often. He’d shaved off his mustache in favor of growing it back along with a bit of five o’clock shadow. His skin was still an almost sickly green, but considering how gray Doctor Marcel had gone, how gray the Abbess of the Convent School had been, even that young officer of the police -Detective Gardengore if he recalled correctly- no one really seemed to notice one more oddly colored human being in their midst. Life moved on, his obsession with her remained.

Another night at the bar seemed set to begin. Edward was cleaning the glass with his shoulder rag. In the three years since he’d taken over the establishment he’d been able to not only repair his house, but get himself some new clothes as well. His hair still had that lanky, hang in your fact affect to it, but his female patrons seemed to like the aesthetic. Then, a huge clap of thunder rolled overhead. A few moments later, the lightning began. Ah, a summer storm in the quaint little town. It meant his bar would be packed until it stopped; oh well, more money for him. Through the dim and probably shotty lighting he kept an eye on the storm through the window. Lightning flashed over the mountains, the thunder clapped in delayed succession behind it, the rain beat a steady pulse against the windowpane. It seemed everyone who wanted to go drinking on a Friday night was already in here, the steady buzz of individual conversation rising to an annoying but easily ignored drone. Edward busied himself filling drink orders, contemplating if maybe he should give in and have an extra set of hands on retainer for nights like this. That was when the door burst open, bringing the storm in with it. A form filled the doorway, looking heavy and menacing. Then she stepped inside, just an ordinary woman in dark form fitting jeans and a slightly too big emerald sweater. Hanging off her shoulder was a ratty old duffle bag. A traveler then, someone new? Or someone old? The black cat-eared beanie on her head spoke to a mischievous side, but her attention was directed at looking around. Was she meeting someone here? No one spoke up to claim her, so maybe she was just searching for an empty seat.

She found one at the bar. And with purpose in her step she strode to it, tugging her cap off on the way. And then, his past and the construct in his mind seemed to collide. Sure, she was a little taller, her face wasn’t as wafish and thin, her hair was a little longer, a little bit more lustrous, and peppered over with streaks of red. Sure, she was a woman now, but he would recognize that sparkle of mischief and chaos in her eyes anywhere. The woman sitting before him now was without a doubt, Edna Konrad. Edward found himself at a loss. The object of his obsession was here, right in front of him. He had the chance he’d been waiting for, the chance to get revenge, the chance to make her pay, for everything she’d done to him. But in front of a whole bar of people? People he’d used to construct a new identity, a new life? Did he even  _ want _ to at this point? The anger of her earlier actions bubbled hot and fresh beneath the surface of his skin, but deeper still, was a sense of relief. That she hadn’t been conquered, not by him, or Doctor Marcel, or anyone, especially not a dammed lake. But what did he want to do now? He couldn’t harm her in front of a bar full of patrons. Edward Keyes was not as violent as the Keymaster had been, was. That didn’t, however, -he realized with malicious glee- mean he couldn’t mess with her head a little. As far as he was aware, she likely thought she’d killed him with that fall. Scaring her a little was the least bit of retribution she could pay. She still hadn’t noticed him by this point, maybe it was time to talk to her, see if his newest customer wanted a drink.


	2. The First Shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some idea of where this is going, but not much. Rest assured there will be ship content, and it will not be slow burn. We just need to establish some plot necessary elements first

It was amazing how much bigger everything looked when you were smaller. The bigger you got, the smaller the world got, especially with the advent of technology. Three years since her second showdown with Doctor Marcel. Three years since she’d finally heard Lilli stand up for herself. Edna couldn’t describe the anger that had filled her when Lilli had informed her Doctor Marcel had tried to psychologically manipulate the young girl by telling her Edna had been nothing more than a figment of her imagination, a byproduct of her restless mind trying to stave off her lonely life at the convent. Moreso when he said that every reason Lili had fought so hard to come there meant nothing, and that Lilli’s willingness to harm an evil man -however pitiful and pathetic he now was- proved just how sick and mentally unstable Lilli was. Sure, Edna had known about the voices, about the urges Lilli got. But Lilli, despite her issues with standing up for herself, had resisted her compulsions. Lilli was better than the voices in her head, better than the intrusive thoughts and undead clowns. It had been hilarious to hear Lilli find her voice only to immediately lose it from screaming herself hoarse.

But, there was a problem, and that was that Doctor Marcel had gotten to Lilli. She believed him when he told her that Edna and Gerret weren’t real, only manifestations of her loneliness and isolation. Lilli had began walking home, without them. In the end, they’d been able to reason with Mother Superior and have her set them loose. Edna and Gerret had crawled out the ventilation shaft and back into the storage room, the lock of which Edna had stuffed to prevent being kept prisoner once she escaped. They unlocked the door -which still had the master key in its lock- and let Mother Superior out. Edna had reclaimed Harvey, and the pair went to catch up with the tiny girl who had saved them all. Once in sight, Harvey had reached for Lilli. Edna couldn’t blame him, Lilli had been the one to save him from Doctor Marcel, the one who had restored him to his former self, his improved former self as it was. Mother Superior had clung tightly, broken by the memory of her own childhood and her own inner demons. Everyone had them, Doctor Marcel was just the only one evil enough to take advantage of them for his own personal gain.

After that, everything had been a wash of activity. First, Lilli had to be convinced that Edna was not in fact a product of the younger girl’s imagination. It had taken Edna’s confession about why Doctor Marcel hated Edna, something the older girl had never told Lilli and had never been released to the press, for the blonde to believe her. Once that had been accomplished, Edna and Lilli had been kept around to help solve the dispute against the Mother Superior. Despite her harsh treatment, she really seemed in no condition mentally to pay for what she had done. And who knew if or how much of what she had done was linked to the issues she had from her own childhood. Lilli, poor sweet Lilli, she had to answer for all the deaths she had inadvertently caused -though why she felt guilty over Birgit Edna couldn’t fathom. Yes, Lilli had provided Birgit with the wrong animal motif, but wasn’t it Birgit’s fault for not double checking with the Mother Superior before she began her embroidering? In any case, Birgit had been the one to hang herself, not Lilli. Poor Lilli had already had to face the horrors of what she had done once, and then again. But much like Birgit, couldn’t all those kids be written off as accidents? Yes, Lilli might have provided the hazardous items, but really, it was their fault for not paying attention. Edna was perhaps, a bit biased though.

She had stood by Lilli’s side as Gerret had questioned them both into the early hours in the morning, wanting to get the bones of the case hammered out while the details were still fresh in everyone’s mind. Edna had given Harvey to Lilli, she needed comfort from the fluffy blue companion more than anyone right now. And, truth be told, the six months Edna had spent without Harvey had been… freeing, in a way. So much of Harvey was destruction, unchecked and chaotic. He was fun and goofy and one of her best friends; but having Lilli, having someone she looked out for like a little sister, it made her mature in a way that Harvey would never allow her to do. She loved Harvey, and she would always want him around. But Edna no longer  _ needed _ Harvey, and Lilli did. Gerret had found them a room with a singular bed that night, Lilli had kept Harvey close to her heart the entire time she slept.

And then, everything seemed to move so fast it made Edna’s head spin. Since she was eighteen, and therefore a legal adult she couldn’t be taken in by anyone, not the way Lilli could. But Gerret had contacts, and an hour’s drive away from everything had been their solution. A lovely couple on the older side of middle aged with plenty of money and no children. They owned an apartment building on the more suburban side of the city, and just so happened to have a room for a single person available. Gerret had said he’d used them many times when needing to go undercover here. The Schwarzes had been made aware of everything Gerret could legally discuss -Alfred’s accident, Mattis’ death, Doctor Marcel’s sadistic treatment for a decade, her escape for the sake of her own health and sanity- and then they’d taken both her and Lilli in, acting as surrogate parents. At first, Edna had resisted, she’d been so used to having just Mattis and his ineffectual parenting, and then not caring. But her nights on the run before the convent school had taught her something, she had no idea how to do anything. Doctor Marcel hadn’t just robbed her of a childhood trying to rewrite her memories, he’d seen to it that he could rob her of a future too.

Mrs. Schwarz seemed to understand a little better than her husband that Edna required a light touch. Though they wanted to help, they couldn’t act like her parents because she no longer  _ needed _ parents. What she needed was a family. She already had Lilli, but Lilli was still a child herself, and couldn’t provide the support Edna needed in her life. So, while they eventually adopted Lilli, the Schwarzes became Edna’s Auntie Anja and Uncle Klaus. Anja helped Edna find her taste in clothes and sense of style, Klaus was a teacher, and between him and the online lessons they had her enrolled in, Edna was able to catch up on the ten years of school she had missed in three. All hail the internet, keeping her out of the way of judgemental eyes. When she finished all her required schooling, Anja and Klaus asked her what she wanted to do, did she want to go on to university? Did she want to try and find a job? Did she want to do both, put off higher education to live in the real world for a little while, enjoy her freedom as an adult?

Edna decided that, yes, yes that was exactly what she wanted to do. The schooling had been a necessary evil thanks to Doctor Marcel. But now, Edna wasn’t sure she wanted to continue on. Her talents and passions didn’t lie in the field of academia. Oftentimes as a child, she thought she might grow up to be a demolition worker; now that had sounded right up her alley. But, she was incredibly artistic too, and loved creating as much as she loved destroying. Because creation was in its own way, destruction was it not? And the same for destruction with creation.

It was confusing. Edna would have asked Harvey what he thought about it, but Harvey had stayed with Lilli. Harvey  _ was _ Lilli’s now. And that was okay, Lilli still needed him. Though she was much more talkative now, Harvey helped keep the demons at bay. Ironic, given how he’d first been acquainted with Lilli, but like he’d said in the padded cell, “Lilli is  _ my _ best friend,” But as much as she enjoyed no longer  _ needing _ Harvey, as much as she liked Anja and Klaus, and the little family they had all built together Edna felt… adrift.

Adrift, and yet anchored. Chained to the inescapable facts of her past, chained to this place of eternal sorrow and stagnation. And with all this opportunity, this future that she had never once considered because everything relied on getting away and staying hidden, it was scary. Without even really thinking about it she’d packed a bag and hopped on the next train, taking nothing more than her sketchpads, drawing utensils, and a few days’ worth of clothes, leaving nothing but a hastily scribbled note behind for explanation. She’d needed comfort, she’d needed familiarity, she’d needed… she’d needed her father. So she’d gone to the back of the graveyard, cleaned up the perfunctory headstone they’d laid him under, and then she’d told him everything. Everything that had happened in the last thirteen years; well, everything she could remember. And then, she’d walked from the graveyard back into the village part of the small town. And everything seemed so small, even smaller than it had been three years prior. With nowhere to go, no one to greet her, she’d wandered listlessly through the streets until she’d ended up back there. At the crossroads.The crossroads which seemed to connect the pieces of her past like links on a change. How long she’d stood there, staring at where she’d come from and where she’d gone over the years; the village, the convent, the cave, the asylum, she didn’t know. And then, a storm had set in. Edna hadn’t thought to pack an umbrella, only barely having remembered to grab her little cat-eared beanie before she left. So, she’d sought shelter in the closest nearby building, the local bar.

Edna thought it funny it was still open after all this time. Lilli had confessed that during her misadventure trying to find Edna and fight Doctor Marcel’s behavioral blocks she may have accidentally killed the bartender. In her defense, he was the one who’d chosen to drink a cocktail made with valium in it, and this after already having ingested something alcoholic. But Edna supposed someone new had moved in. The exterior, from what she could see through the heavy rain, looked largely the same -maybe a few cosmetic updates here and there. Inside, inside it was abuzz with activity. Edna glanced around, hoping to find a nice solitary little booth for herself. No such luck, everyone and their mother and their dead grandparents seemed to be packed into the building tonight. Oh well, at least it wasn’t a club, Edna hated clubs. They were too loud, too noisy, and while it was definitely crowded in here, at least the scent of free flowing booze wasn’t washing over her in combination with sweat, puke, and other bodily fluids Edna didn’t want to think about. Finally spotting an empty seat, at the bar, of course, Edna quickly strode forward to claim it before anyone else could, tugging her hat from her head to try and let it dry off. Her sweater wasn’t too badly drenched, the distance hadn’t been that far before the rain had started deluging down, but her hat? It had taken the worst of it. She set it to the side with a sigh. Welp, twenty-one years old and in a bar, only one thing for it then; nursing her problems in the bottom of a bottle. Or, mug, rather, but the idea was the same.

Just as she wondered when the Bartender would show up she heard a voice slide over her,

“Hello Princess,” that voice; its cadence, its quiet, seductive quality, the way it rolled over her body like it was caressing her the way his tongue caressed every syllable it uttered. She would recognize it anywhere. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? Wasn’t he… dead? Hadn’t she… killed him? Edna quickly glanced over and, though the years had changed him as undoubtedly as they’d changed her, the quiet mania in his eyes was impossible to mistake. The Keymaster, he was here, and he was… behind the bar.

Because he was so good at reading people, and Edna knew she was in too much a state of shock to try hiding it, he knew how surprised she was to see him. And to add insult to injury, he smirked, finishing his greeting in a similar manner to the one he had first uttered to her all those years ago, “What’s a girl like you doing in a bar like this?”

“Keymaster?” she breathed, voice hardly above a whisper, certainly inaudible over the general din of the room. He heard her nonetheless, “But I thought you were-”

“I’m sure you did,” he silenced her, “But I can assure you I’m flesh and blood.”

Instead of her being horrified, he saw relief fill her features, “Thank goodness for that,” she sighed, “I hated the thought I killed someone else…”

“Someone else?” he raised a brow at that, “My, my, does the innocent Miss Konrad actually have a bodycount to her name?”

She smiled at that, “I’m sure mine’s nowhere near as high as yours, Keymaster” even during that one day so long ago, he had noticed she often resorted to humor -nonsensical and otherwise- as a way to deflect the attention off herself. But he wouldn’t press her on it, yet. The night was young after all, and she was still sober.

“Actually,” he corrected, “I go by Edward now, Edward Keyes.”

“You stole my initials!” she protested.

“I most certainly did not,” he argued, “Edward was my middle name, and Keyes,” he let out a breath of laughter, “I’m sure you can figure out that part.”

A droll raise of her brow was his only response.

He hummed in agreement, “But speaking of, you never answered my question Princess. What’s a girl like you doing in a bar like this?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Edna parried. She’d spent too long with Doctor Marcel, they both had, and it meant they were evenly matched as far as witty banter went.

She still had the uncanny ability to amuse and irritate simultaneously. Still, for now, he was leaning more towards amused than agitated. Edward smirked again, “This is my bar,”

“What?” her voice came across stronger in her skepticism, “This is your bar?”

“Let’s just say the… opportunity of a lifetime fell into my lap. I wonder that happened to the little angel who helped make it happen,” he pondered the thought for a moment before shaking his head, “Now your turn princess, answer the question. What are you doing here?”

“Oh I don’t know,” she gave a wan smile and a shrug, “Looking for trouble I guess…”

“Funny,” he continued to clean his glass, “And here I thought trouble had a funny habit of finding you. I never imagined you would need to go looking for it.”

“Are you gonna get me something to drink or not?” Edna questioned, “Because if I wanted to have my head picked apart by a lunatic, there’s an asylum just up the road I’d rather go to.”

“You’re a good actress Edna,” Edward told her, “But a terrible liar. Still, I am here to serve so long as you’ve got money to spend; what’ll it be?”

“Oh come on,” Edna whined playfully, “Not even a single round on the house for a friend?”

“First we would have to  _ be _ friends, Edna,” Edward parried, “And then…”

“And then?” was it him, or had she leaned in closer, bracing her chin in her hands, elbows pressed against the bartop.

He chuckled again, “Not even then,”

Edward heard her call “Scrooge!” after him as he walked away. As amusing as it was to bait and verbally spar with Edna all night, he did still have a business to run.

E&H

Since the replacement for Maxmixo had passed, Edward had had his work cut out for him. He had expanded the menu, experimenting with different drink combinations until he found a few victims to play test subject on. What was more popular, he added to the menu. What fizzled, fizzled. He had about one other regular employee, the chef who prepared food. But, they certainly hadn’t expected the rain to draw in a crowd this big. Edward didn’t see Edna again for another hour, aside from a brief moment where he dropped off her drink. This repeated itself twice more. Around midnight, people began to leave, mostly because the storm had since abated. He’d made a fine profit all things considered, and thankfully no one seemed to notice or care about his association with the woman with the purple and red hair nursing her drinks at the end of the bar. Finally having a moment to breathe, since the stragglers were all taken care of, Edward returned to Edna,

“So, need another?” he asked, already anticipating filling up her glass.

Edna looked up at him from where she had been staring into the bottom of her glass. Her eyes were disoriented, well, more so than usual, and she wavered a little as she sat straight up. Her eyes widened in surprise upon recognizing him,

“Keymaster?” she gasped, voice a whisper loud enough to catch the attention of any mildly sober patrons of the bar, “What are you doing here? I thought you were dead!”

Oh dear, the poor thing was drunk. Funny, given how much trouble she liked to get into he would have thought her an expert with spirits by now. Edward watched as she continued to rave, but as amusing as it was to watch Edward decided that for their own sakes he should do something about it. After all, Bladder and his fresh-faced companion were sitting in a booth over by the corner.

“Hush, Edna,” he placed a finger to his lips, then to her own, “You’re going to get us in trouble.”

Edna peered blearily at him, “Trouble? I like trouble!” she declared.

Edward hummed at her, “I’m sure you do,” he whispered back as he patted her on the head, “But you won’t like this trouble.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Edward leaned close to her, “This kind of trouble will land you right back where you started, in a padded cell, with nothing but a white paper gown for company.”

Edna pushed back, away from him, “Wha-”

Edward sighed, she wouldn’t listen until she sobered up a little. Luckily, he had just the thing. Working quickly he mixed a hangover cure and served it to her with some plain bread, something to help liquidate and absorb the alcohol in her system. Thankfully she’d only had three -admittedly strong- drinks. It wasn’t as though she’d been taking shots all evening. Between the bread and the natural rate of absorption she had she was fading from drunk and tipsy into relatively sober. Still a little out of it, all things considered, but hopefully not nearly enough to get either of them into any trouble. Edward didn’t know why he cared. He had a new identity, one the stupid guards at Marcel’s old asylum hadn’t seen through sober and certainly wouldn’t see through drunk. He refused to believe he actually gave a damn about what happened to Edna, given all that she’d done to him. Though, that put her in the perfect state to be grilled about her earlier words. He knew she had something to do with Doctor Marcel’s own injuries, as the man had been grumbling about it the whole time he’d been loaded into the ambulance. But as to an actual body count? It was… interesting to say the least.

“Feeling a little better now?” he asked after Edna finished her glass and her bread.

“I guess,” Edna muttered, leaning forward and resting her head in her arms, “So… sleepy.”

In just three minutes, she was sound asleep and snoring softly. Well, he supposed he wouldn’t be getting any answers out of her tonight. Edward sighed and wondered what he should do with her. He couldn’t let her stay, but as much as the thought of kicking her out on her rear appealed, he couldn’t do that either. Not while he had to kick out Marcel’s minions at the same time. Maybe he should take care of them first, and then find out where she was staying.  _ Then _ he could kick her out. Edward looked at the time, it was nowhere near the time he usually closed. But his clientele was thinning out, so he might as well close early. Bladder and the newbie were told to pay up and get out, which after noticing the menacing stare of the proprietor they quickly did. That was how he took care of the other couple of patrons, leaving Edna to sleep relatively undisturbed. Edward had the chef clean up the back, while he attended to the front. Edna slept on. When all that was left to do was turn the lights out and lock the doors Edward roused her,

“Princess,” he nudged her, “Edna, Edna!”

She snorted as she startled awake, “Wha- Harvey,” she peered at him and shook her head, “No Keymaster, no wait... “ she thought for a moment, “You said you went by Edward now right?”

“I do,” he agreed, “But it’s just us now. If you find it easier to use my old nickname, I won’t complain. I just,” he paused, “Prefer you don’t use it in the middle of a bar frequented by Doctor Marcel’s minions.”

Edna’s eyes widened, “Are you serious?”

“Is there ever a time I’m not?” he asked in reply, holding an arm out to her as they exited the bar, him turning out the lights and locking the door, “I remember you once showing me a police badge and telling me not to, and I quote, ‘try any funny stuff’.”

Edna laughed, “I remember that, and then you told me that there were many words one could use to describe you, funny was not one of them.”

“You seem to remember a lot, finally solve that little memory issue of yours then?”

“Amazing what years without electroshock therapy results in. it’s a wonder more people don’t try it.”

“Well then,” the Keymaster replied, “Do you  _ remember _ where you happen to be staying?”

“I…” Edna paused, and self-consciously wrung her hands around the strap of her duffle bag as it hung across her body, “Um…”

“Can you not remember?”

“I didn’t, um, actually…” she kept trying to start a sentence and eventually, she sighed, “You asked me earlier what I was doing here. I didn’t answer properly. Looking for trouble, visiting old friends, they are true. But the real truth is, I don’t know.”

The Keymaster looked at her, “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I had… all these choices, once I caught up with everything I’d missed out on. Choices of what to do with my life, choices that… it felt like everything was happening all too fast. And in the middle of all the chaos I wanted to go back to… someplace familiar, where everything was simple.”

“So you decided to return to the place where you spent ten years of your life locked away from the rest of the world?”

“I don’t even know why I did it okay?” Edna shot at him, “I just, it feels like…” she sighed, “No matter where I go, no matter how far away it is, something in me feels, feels… stuck here. Chained,”

“Trapped?” he suggested.

“Yeah,” it was odd, to hear defeat in the voice of the indomitable Edna Konrad, “So before I really knew what I was doing, I’d packed a bag and hopped a train here. I didn’t even make plans for where I was going to stay, I just… I wasn’t thinking alright? I just needed to come back, I needed, I needed, I needed to come  _ home _ .”

“Well,” Edward let out a sigh of his own, “I suppose if not for your ingenuity, neither of us would be where we are today. I can’t say I don’t still blame you for the reverend’s death in some way, but I wouldn’t be free, be… not normal but... -well, you know what I mean- either. I suppose you can stay with me, it’s not as if I don’t have the room.”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you that,” Enda remarked as he began walking them back to his home, “You look, well, not good but better.”

“You do know how to make a man feel special, don’t you?” Edward remarked.

“I’m not a subtle flirt,” Enda confided, “Anja and Klaus wanted me to have everything I missed, Anja especially. She was always taking me out, trying to introduce me to guys, and girls when that didn’t work out...”

“Anything stick?”

“Not a one,” Edna laughed, “I really don’t think there’s someone out there as cra-  _ not _ crazy as I am.”

“It’s a bit of an ordeal,” he agreed, “I understand why Petra clung to Peter the way she did. Or probably still does, unless he finally became cynical enough to shuffle off the mortal coil himself.”

“So,” Edna began conversationally after a brief period of silence, only broken by the occasional yawn at the late hour, “Where did you manage to find a home?”

“Someone left theirs just sitting on the curb,” Edward replied, “I was living in squalor there for a few months. Then some little blonde girl came into town one night and may or may not have had something to do with the old bartender’s untimely demise. I saw my chance and took it, remaking myself over as Edward Keyes. Once I started making a profit, I turned to fixing the old place up. I’m actually looking forward to your reaction.”

“Why?”

“I think you’ll find it… familiar, in spite of the changes I’ve made.”

They walked and walked until they reached the old Konrad residence that the Keymaster had made his own. He heard Edna gasp,

“But this, this is my house,” she told him.

“ _ Was _ your house,” the Keymaster parried, “It’s mine now. I even own the deed and everything. Well, Edward Keyes does, anyways.”

“That reminds me, how did this all even come about anyways?”

“That is a question better left for a time when we  _ both _ want to trade secrets my dear,” he dangled the information in front of her, “Now princess, I think it’s time you get yourself to bed.”

“Is,” Edna hesitated, “Is my old room still there?”

“That room on the third floor?” the Keymaster asked, “The room itself is still there. I told you, I’ve done some renovation and redesign since our escape. I use it as a storage room now.”

“Oh,” Edna said quietly.

“Besides,” he continued, “whatever happened the night after you ran off from the church… I don’t think it would be the healthiest thing for you to return to your old room. I think I might be risking a violent relapse just by bringing you inside. And if it’s all the same to you I’d prefer to survive the night without any  _ other _ broken bones.”

“You’ve gotten this far, haven’t you?” Edna joked as she tried to stifle a yawn. Really, it was too late, so late it was early.

“Through the grace of shock and alcohol I’m sure,” he deadpanned as he reached for his keys and unlocked the door, “Come on,”

They stumbled inside. The Keymaster knew his way around his own home in the dark, and Edna; well Edna’s childhood home hadn’t changed so drastically she couldn’t figure it out.

“So,” she asked, trying to make her voice conversational even when it was laden with exhaustion, “Where do you want me?”

A myriad of answers flashed through his mind at that question. He had a basement he could lock her in. Or that attic she had asked about. Or… he considered her a moment, she’d certainly grown from the little brat he’d known three years ago, she was tired, he could just as easily tell her she was welcome in his bed. He toyed with that thought the longest, purely for the sake of seeing what her reaction would be. She’d been so naive and innocent when he’d known her, but she’d admitted to attempting dating before. He had no intention of carrying that out in any way. When his violent tendencies had a habit of kicking in, it was always at the most inopportune times. Besides that, Edna held physical appeal, but he was… unaffected by it.

“You can use the smaller room on the far left of the second floor.” he told her as they slowly marched up the main stairway.

“You mean, Mattis’ room?” Edna clarified.

“Mattis?”

“Mattis Konrad,” Edna explained, “My father.”

“Did you spend a great deal of time in that room as a child?”

“No,”

“Then it should be fine for one night,”

“Yeah,” Edna agreed after a beat, “You’re right. I don’t know what I’m worrying about.”

They split at the doors, her going into what had once been her father’s room but was now a guest room gathering dust, and him going into what had once been her childhood classroom, but he’d converted into his own master bedroom.

“Goodnight,” she bid as she lingered at the door. He could tell she was stalling, not wanting to come face to face with more painful reminders of a past she’d fought so hard to get back, but came as a bittersweet realization.

“Goodnight Edna,” he turned to enter his own room but stopped at her, “Oh,” of realization, “Yes?” he prompted, wanting nothing more than to sink into his mattress and enjoy a few hours of oblivion.

“And Edward?” her voice sounded small, and hesitant, “Thank you,”

He paused a moment, waiting for her to pass the threshold before he answered, “Anytime, Princess. Anytime,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought. Thank you for reading and I'll see you all next time!


	3. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking this will hopefully be around 5 chapters, definitely no more than 10. So if my estimation is right we're about halfway there, and if I'm wrong, more for you guys to enjoy.

Edna didn’t sleep that night. How could she? Everything was familiar, and yet so different. The little cabinet bed her father had gotten for himself was gone, as was his writing desk. The hole in the roof had been patched, but the decor had turned from relatively masculine to something completely neutral. All traces of her past, it felt like they’d been thrown out. She’d come back to this town because she’d felt so chained to it, was the reality that her past had thrown her away too? Did Edna have  _ any _ place that she belonged? It was these questions and more which kept her wondering late into the night. It was beginning to dawn by the time her eyes finally felt heavy enough to resist the constant whirring of her thoughts. She slept, and slept, and slept. By the time she actually did wake it was early afternoon. Cautiously Edna stepped out of her borrowed room, surreptitiously checking about for any sign of the man who’d taken her past and remade it to suit his own needs. No sign of him. She wandered the hall, debating if she should go down and try to find some food the way her hunger demanded she do, or should she take the moment of quiet and lack of supervision to see what had become of her old dwelling.

Given how it had been abandoned for ten years, at least, a lot of work had needed to be done the last time she’d seen it. Holes and broken windows, glass and other debris everywhere. But now? In the hazy afternoon light it seemed almost normal. The colors were now muted, shades of sterile white and boring beige, gray, a blue that was neither dark nor light that covered the floor, all of them absolutely lifeless. In a way, it suited the Keymaster, what little Edna knew of the man’s personality. But in too many other ways, it reminded Edna of Doctor Marcel’s asylum, all muted colors as though the building itself wanted to convey how lifeless and horrible existence within its walls was. Not that anyone listened to it, or anyone who was sent there. But still, Edna wondered if the Keymaster missed the asylum. For all his talk of wanting freedom, the moment he got it he ran off, did something reckless, dangerous, and stupid, and then locked himself back up again. Maybe she should ask him about it, but not right now. Edna glanced around again, still no sign of other life, she took the chance, and crept up the stairs. There it was, the door to her old room. It too had been painted over, no longer was it the white of her childhood memories, but instead the Keymaster had decided it needed to be a dark colored wood with a glossy stain to it. Edna held her breath as she reached for the knob. The handle jiggled but otherwise didn’t move. It was locked. And unfortunately, there were no screws on this side of the panel, which meant taking the latch off was impossible.

Heaving a sigh of defeat Edna wandered down to the kitchen. The Keymaster was already there, sipping some coffee and reading the newspaper. Were it not for the green tint to his skin and the unsettling aura around him, he might have almost appeared normal.

“Well, well, well,” he greeted, all without ever looking at her, “Have fun snooping around my home?”

“Wh- how did you?” Edna was at a loss for words.

“You forget, I’m the Keymaster,” he replied, “If I want something secured no one except me is going to be able to get in. Besides, this  _ was _ your home at one time, I wasn’t naive enough to think you  _ wouldn’t _ snoop around. Now, it’s already late afternoon, come have something to eat. We still need to figure out what you’re going to be doing.”

“What do you mean by that?” Edna asked as she took a seat.

Apparently the kitchen had needed the most work of all. And the Keymaster had broken through the wall that connected it with the living and dining room on the other side, making it one gigantic open area. Edna had to admit she liked the effect, and yet, was saddened by it at the same time. Just another momento that her past was gone.

“I mean,” the Keymaster, Edward rather, said, “that you told me yourself you came here without any real preparations for doing so. As such you have no place to stay, no way of supporting yourself. Last night I unfortunately found all this out too late, and the local inn was already closed for the evening.”

“So?” Edna stood and found a loaf of bread left out on the counter and decided to make toast. Anything that involved using fire in some capacity was alright by her, “Why can’t I just stay here? This is my home after all.”

“Correction, princess, it  _ was _ your home. When Edward Keyes came back to town he needed a place to live that was within his limited budget. The town agreed to give me the house so long as I would start fixing it up. The deed is in my name now, so that means it’s mine.”

“I still don’t see why I can’t stay here,” Edna argued.

“Let’s ask the break lines in my only barely healed bones then, shall we?” the Keymaster parried, “Let’s ask them why you shouldn’t be allowed to stay here.”

“In my defense,” Edna replied, “You really didn’t give me any other option. You locked us both in the church and told me there was no way I could escape without letting you out as well.”

“It never occured to you to try going out a window, did it?” the Keymaster asked, “Or maybe climbing downward from the bell tower? Not even searching for a way out through the basement. No, we decided to attempt to kill a man and take the key off him while he’s still bleeding.”

“If you hadn’t locked us both in the church we wouldn’t have had this problem at all!” Edna slammed her hands down on the table. What was it about this guy? He got under her skin just like Alfred used to, the only difference was that the Keymaster could hold his own, Alfred relied on Mattis and his own father to fight his battles for him, “You… you put us both in another cage. Why did you want to get out so badly if you knew you were dangerous?”

“Why does the caged bird sing, Edna?” the Keymaster asked her, “It certainly isn’t for love of singing. It sings because maybe if it sings it can recreate the joy of being free. No matter that it does not belong in the wilderness, it still yearns for it all the same. Just because I should not be free doesn’t mean I don’t want freedom. You felt the same way, the only difference is that you weren’t a danger to anyone out on the streets.”

“I doubt Doctor Marcel would agree with you,” Edna muttered. There was a long stretch of silence towards them, a silence broken only by the ticking of the timer as Edna’s toast browned in the toaster. It resounded louder than ever when it dinged. Edna silently rose and went to put butter on it. Then, guided more by her curious nature than her sense of self-preservation as was usual for her, she asked him, “Are you?”

“Am I what?” the Keymaster parried.

“A danger,” Edna clarified, “I mean… you just, you seem to have done well for yourself. I doubt you would have been able to kill serially in a town as small as this without getting caught.”

“You clearly don’t remember Edmund the Slasher,” he remarked lowly.

“Would that, by chance, have been you?” her tone was light, likely to hide the fear of it being the truth.

“Yes, yes, you caught me. My full name is actually Edmund Edward Slasherton, aka Edmund the Slasher,” he deadpanned and stared at her a moment before rolling her eyes, “Really now Princess, what do you think?”

“We weren’t even free two hours before you killed someone,” Edna pointed out.

“Yes, but note the distinct method of murdering Edmund has in his name. Edmund the  _ Slasher _ . Do you recall seeing the reverend cut to shreds and covering the balcony?”

“No…”

“Then clearly, I am not Edmund the Slasher,” he replied, “But we’re getting off the subject. To answer your question, yes, I am less of a danger to the people around me. But only because I have picked up a few hobbies which appeal to my…  _ darker _ urges.”

“Hobbies?” she sounded intrigued now, intrigued and nervous, “What kind of hobbies?”

“I like to carve,” he replied lightly, “And hunt.”

“You actually hunt?” Edna scoffed.

“And what may I ask, is so funny about that?”

“I just can’t picture you with a gun in your hands without it looking completely ridiculous. Sure your name’s not Elmer Fudd?”

“Careful, or we’ll get slapped with a suit for copyright infringement,” the Keymaster warned her.

“Oh please,” Edna stuck out her tongue and blew it, “Like anyone pays attention to those sorts of things.”

“Anyways, I don’t use a gun when I go hunting. A gun is too quick, too simple, too…  _ easy _ ,” the Keymaster replied, “I prefer methods that are a little more of a challenge.”

“Like?”

“I like traps, and snares,” the Keymaster clarified, “Something that takes meticulous planning to set up right. Something that one’s prey never sees coming. And to be frank, something that allows me to leave it unsupervised for lengths of time. I run a bar you know, can’t be spending all my time waiting for the perfect shot.”

“How did you come to run a bar anyways?” Edna asked, “I remember you said the opportunity fell into your lap but-”

“I think I also remember telling you that would be saved for a time when we were both willing to trade secrets Edna, such as what you meant when you said you couldn’t bear to think that you had killed someone else. Are we doing this now? Or do you want to continue pretending you never said it a little while longer?”

“I never said anything like that,” Edna huffed.

“Alright then,” he shrugged, “If that’s how you feel about it. We seem to have drifted off track yet again, as you still haven’t told me what you plan to do about your accommodations if you plan to stay in town a while longer.”

“Why can’t you just be nice and let me stay with you?” Edna asked, “I promise I won’t be a bother. I can even help out around here, I… I like being here, I like being home, in spite of all the changes you’ve made it still feels like home to me. Please, I’ll do anything,”

“Anything?” he raised a brow at that and smirked, “Really Princess you shouldn’t go giving a man that much power over you. There’s no telling what he could do with it. And of course, I’m only referring to the mentally stable men of the world. But you’ve just handed such power over to me, a certified, and certifiable, lunatic.”

“You won’t hurt me,” Edna stated confidently, though quietly, “You’ve never hurt me.”

“I would be lying if I said I’d never wanted to though,” he stood from the table, leaning half over it and into her personal space, trying to intimidate her. She met his stare unflinching, apparently she thought she was no longer the scared little girl from all those years ago. After a long moment, the Keymaster sighed, “Very well, how much do you know about bartending?”

“Um… nothing?” Edna replied.

“That’s too bad, but you’re going to have to learn,” the Keymaster shrugged, sitting back down and picking up the discarded newspaper. His coffee had probably gone cold, but as he sipped it he found to his surprise it was only lukewarm, “As long as you stay you’re going to have to help me out as a second pair of hands. You will of course, be doing all of this unpaid, seeing as you’re now staying in my house, and I can assume you'll need to eat too.”

“Unfortunately I haven't mastered the art of photosynthesis yet,” Edna quipped, “Is it hard to learn bartending?”

“Depends, are you any good at math?”

“It wasn't my best subject, but it wasn't my worst either,” Most of her hatred coming from the fact that Mr. Hornbush in his greediness had wrecked her confidence in mathematics for the sake of keeping her on par with Alfred.

“Can you do basic math?” The Keymaster asked her, “Addition, subtraction, fractions?” At her nod he continued, “That’s basically all it is. And since you proved last night you like to drink you'll find it easier since you'll know how each drink is supposed to taste when made correctly.” He set aside his newspaper and finished his coffee, “Well, if that's settled then, go rest a few more hours, we'll begin your training tonight.”

“That soon?”

“Unless you want to find somewhere  _ else _ to stay,”

“Tonight sounds good, thank you for your hospitality.”

“Manners? From Edna Konrad?” He chuckled sardonically, “The world does occasionally astonish doesn't it?”

“I'm not sure what Doctor Marcel told you,” Edna rebutted as she cleaned up the remains of her meal, “But I do have manners. He and Alfred were just never worthy of them.”

“Alfred?” The Keymaster looked at her, obviously intrigued, “Care to tell me who Alfred is?”

“Alfred is…” dead, instead she said, “ _ was _ a childhood friend of mine. Let's just leave it at that:”

She gathered her dish and rinsed it off in the sink, putting it in the little drying rack she saw. Then without another word, Edna left the room and returned upstairs.

E&H

Even if one hadn’t known the exact circumstances of Edna’s life, the way she acted in public would have made it abundantly clear that she hadn’t been exposed to much over her life. Thus, she didn’t exactly have the mentality she should have cultivated by her age. Drinking for her, though it was something she could do legally, still had that sort of forbidden thrill to it. She got positively giddy at the thought of tasting new drinks. Edward sighed, he should have suspected as much, the first time she had let him out she’d done nothing but pester him for a drawn out period of time asking inane questions and showing him stupid objects. Why was he agreeing to let her stay here again? He should have just run her out of town. She should have left after figuring out he was still alive and was likely to have a vendetta against her.

Now there was some food for thought. Did he still hate her? It was hard to say, his darker side begged for him to get brutal, bloody revenge on her for the way she had broken him that night. His rational (if one could call it that) side still blamed her for letting him out. She should have known he was dangerous, a hazard to society. Why else would he have been in solitary confinement. He should still be locked up in that asylum, why oh why had she set him free? And yet a third part, the part that had spent the most time staring at that child’s photo he’d found in Mattis’ room felt a sort of morbid pity for her. Whatever her reason for being there, it was more than clear it was due to some sort of personal grudge on Doctor Marcel’s part. That had been the driving force between his obsession with erasing Edna’s memory. Ten years, ten years of her life she had lost because of some unnamed thing the doctor condemned her for. And that same something, once faced with the reality of her escape and serious injury to his person, was what drove him to attempt to eradicate childish behavior completely. Here he was, a dangerous psychopath who killed without remorse at least once, and even he thought that was going too far.

For now, all he could do was tolerate her presence. She would move on, she was still young, she had a life ahead of her. There was no reason for her to stay in this backwater little village when the entire world still awaited her debut. Edna wasn’t the type who could live in the shadows of her past for very long, not with how many terrible feelings they left within her in place of her memories. All her loved ones were dead, and she was left all alone. There was a doctor just as insane as some of his patients who had it in for her, and on the other mountain lay a convent which had brought Marcel back into her life, and left her with no one. He’d read the newspaper the next day, the students, all but two of them were dead in a series of grotesque accidents ranging from falling off a cliff to being exploded by a live detonator from World War Two, to even being devoured by flesh eating termites. Edward remembered reading the details with mild amusement and disgust. And he had thought  _ he _ was a serial killer. This unnamed foe certainly had him beat.

“Pay attention Edna,” he instructed as he opened the door. Prep time for opening on a busy night like a saturday usually required showing up about two hours beforehand. Edward decided he would also use this time to give a few basic bartending lessons to his little houseguest.

He started with the most popular of the simple drinks on the menu. Aside from bottled booze, which she could pull from the little fridge behind the bar, or the drafts, which were dispensed by the tap, it would at least give her a starting point. The more complex drinks she could pass on to him; after all, it was only her first night. The thought stopped him as he cleaned a glass, why did he think she needed anymore than basic training? Yes, it would be a help, but he wasn’t going to allow her to stay indefinitely. She wouldn’t need that much time, and therefore, wouldn’t need the training for the more complex drinks in his repertoire. He wouldn’t allow it.

If there was one quality Edna always retained, it was her cleverness. Of all the things he’d said to her that fateful day, it had been the most sincere. Edna was nothing if not a quick study when it came to the basic components of serving. Half-apron around her waist with a small notepad and pen to write down the orders. A single register sat on the far end of their side of the counter to ring up transactions. Orders were placed under a customer name, for ease of simplicity. Even on its busiest nights, there was never a waiting list for seats, and thus no need for a numbering system. By the time people were clamoring to come in, Edward was confident Enda could handle herself. Maybe it would have been better to start her on a slower night, but she had made the decision to travel when she did, and if she was going to stay with him then he was going to put her to work. The darker side of his mind thought of several alternatives it would rather use it for, but Edward pushed them aside. Those were thoughts best saved for when he could drink himself into an immovable coma, or when he had one of his knives handy and something for it to stab, preferably something soft and fleshy.

Patrons were more than curious about Edward’s new hire. And about the fact that she was female. Edward Keyes was an enigma, one the town never questioned, but one they were curious about all the same. He claimed to be from the area, but no one in the last three generations could remember a family by the name of Keyes. Had he grown up in the convent school as an orphan? That was honestly the more likely option. But any attempt to fact check this was that Mother Superior, the only nun who had been there long enough to remember a man around Edward’s age being under her care had been psychologically broken after a visit from Doctor Marcel. She had been put away for her own safety and thus their only lead to the truth was gone too. Edward never spoke about his past other than he had been from the town and left for a number of years, only to come back at a time when there was a job and no one otherwise able to fill it. He’d also taken the aesthetic and economic eyesore that was the old Konrad house and rebuilt it. For that alone the town had given the condemned building to him.

Edward Keyes caught the attention of the younger female population, most old enough to drink but some not. The quiet mystery and menacing air that hung around him intrigued those who wanted more in life than the simple wholesome man the village normally boasted, but for whatever circumstances were not allowed to leave the small town themselves. Edward never took anyone home, never spoke of any romantic attachments, nothing. He didn’t even so much as flirt with anyone brave or drunk enough to brazenly hit on him. He disengaged himself calmly, and proceeded to probe them about what was actually going on. For a bartender he turned out to be remarkably good at psychoanalysis. He was a much better therapist than Doctor Marcel’s people, cheaper too. Made folks wonder if he hadn’t done off to get a psychology degree and found he couldn’t do anything with it. The bartending had likely been a way to put himself through school that simply ended up being more lucrative a career for him.

But this? This was unprecedented. The girl he brought introduced herself as Edna, Edna Burkhart. No one had noticed her moment of hesitation before saying her last name, nor the loaded look and small shake of Edward’s head. Thirteen years might have passed, but people still remembered. People remembered the murder of the unnamed eight year old Mattis Konrad had confessed too. Though his grave lay forgotten, people remembered him too. Not as the man he was, not as the man they’d known him as, but as the man Doctor Marcel had had the media paint him as, and that was what people cared about more than anything. More than that, they still remembered the flood of news that had filled their papers in the weeks following Edna’s escape from Doctor Marcel’s asylum. Only three years had passed, but Edna didn’t need to be told that Marcel would have wasted no time or expense getting her back after all that she’d done to him.

When asked, all Edward would say as to how Edna had come to be here was, “She’s an old friend, come to figure herself out.”

Real or imagined, the people in the bar noticed the odd, almost electrifying chemistry between the two. The way quick glances were shot from one to the other when the latter wasn’t paying attention. Moreso, they noticed the darkness in Edward’s countenance the moment anyone tried to hit on Edna. fortunately, the young woman seemed to have a foolproof method of deflection, in which she would say something completely off the cuff and usually so bizarre it left the poor casanova wannabe staring at their drink in a mystified stupor for at least several minutes. And those who were still awake at the hour, they noticed how Edna and Edward went home together.

The rumors spread quickly. They always did in a small town like this. Everyone knew everyone, and Edward Keyes was already the subject of local fascination. That he now had a girl he claimed as just an old friend living in his house and working in his bar only upped the level of intrigue around him. The woman was on the younger side, but not so young that a friendship between the two was implausible. Maybe she had been an orphan too, or maybe she was someone he’d met while away from their lives. Edna and Edward refused to answer to the public’s satisfaction how they ended up meeting. As a matter of fact, Edna’s favorite hobby seemed to be making up ludicrous stories instead.

“Oh, don’t you know?” she would begin, “We met while venturing through the Amazon Rainforest?” or, “Don’t you know, I was working his bachelor party and caused his fiancee to dump him?” or the crowd’s favorite, “I busted him out of a looney bin.”

And surprisingly enough, Edward would make dry remarks either bolstering the story she told, or suggesting one of the other fantastic ones she’d invented.

“It wasn’t the Amazon Edna, we met while you were trying to break into a tomb in Paris, remember?”

“Oh right, right,” Edna would nod, “I was searching for this allegedly mystical amulet that was said to have been buried with Marie Antoinette. I guess I wasn’t as quiet as I thought.”

“My dear Edna, you are like a storm; violent, destructive, and a force of nature that cannot be stopped unless you wish to stop,” Edward remarked, “Naturally you wouldn’t be quiet.”

“You did save me from the night watchman,” Enda reminded.

“Did I?” Edward exaggerated his tone, “And here I thought I was helping him catch you.”

Everyone had a good time with Edna around. Even the menacing aura of Edward didn’t seem so threatening so long as she was there bringing levity with her quirkiness and offhand way of distracting him. Fewer skulls were bashed, but then, fewer needed to be. Edna took up most of the attention which usually caused it, and she had her own way of getting out which left Edward merely to sulk and glower. The town was convinced he had a thing for her, but had either never confessed or had been rejected. Much as the matchmakers in them wanted to intervene, Edward was still a force to be reckoned with, and there was no telling how he might react to unwanted aid in his love life, or lack thereof. Everyone except the jealous people who had wanted their own shot with the local mystery man of a bartender thought they made a cute couple.

Luckily, neither Edna nor the Keymaster noticed these rumors. Edna likely would have spent a good few moments dramatically overreacting, making exaggerated retching sounds and ridiculous faces, such was her childish nature. Edward, the Keymaster, there was no telling how he would have reacted had he known what the town made of his relationship with the strange girl of purple locks spattered with -as she liked to call it- the blood of her enemies in streaking rivulets through her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading, until next time!


	4. Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the like... five of you reading this, thank you. Sorry this took a while but I've been busy. Anyways, enjoy!

“Do you have a phone?” Edna asked him. It was one of the few days that he took off for himself, to not bother with the bar, though alcohol was an entirely different matter.

“Why do you want to know?” The Keymaster asked her, “Planning on running up my phone bill as well?”

“I just wanted to call someone,” was her defense, “Let them know how I'm doing.”

“In the front hall,” he relented, “but if you go over ten minutes I'm coming in and hanging up on them for you.”

“Why?”

“I don't have a phone for when I want it, I have it for when I need it.”

“What sense does that make?”

“You tell me, remember; I'm an escaped patient from an insane asylum. My line of logic doesn’t  _ have _ to match up with society’s rules.”

“Are you not paying for the phone regardless of whether or not you use it?”

“Let me put it to you this way princess, who do I have to call?”

Edna opened her mouth to argue but couldn't. He was right. The Keymaster didn't have any family, or friends, despite what he said at the bar. What use did he have for a phone except in emergencies?

She sighed and dialed the number for the Schwarzes. Lilli was the one who picked up, in three years her voice had gotten stronger, but it continued to carry that soft spoken quality to it that made her a pleasure to listen to, “Hello?”

“Hi Lillifred, it’s Edna,” the older girl greeted. Lilli had only really just entered her adolescence. Edna would have loved to help her navigate this path, but thanks to Doctor Marcel there was just no helping it. Edna had her own adolescence to try and live through.

“Edna?” Lila nearly gasped, “Edna what happened? Where did you go? Why did you only leave a note,  _ again _ ?”

The younger girl sounded hurt, very hurt. Suddenly Edna was reminded of three years past, when she had left a note both upon leaving the convent and her hiding place in the cave at Moor Lake, hoping against hope that Lilli would find and follow them. Edna hadn’t planned on getting captured by Doctor Marcel’s minions, but in case she had… and suddenly she felt guilty. How must Lilli have felt, finding her friend, her family at this point, gone with nothing but a hastily scribbled explanation. And, moreover, only now being called approximately a week after she had left. Edna wasn’t used to explaining her comings and goings to anyone, and it was hard to reconcile the fact that she had someone who would  _ care _ when she disappeared for periods of time. Mattis, god rest his unfairly maligned soul, had been ineffectual at containing Edna, and seldom cared where she went or what she did. Doctor Marcel had only cared insomuch as it affected his precious Alfred. Alfred… Edna felt all melancholy all over again, and Lilli’s well-deserved berating didn’t help matters any.

“I’m sorry Lilli,” she cut the younger girl off, “I just, ten years in an asylum, I missed a lot. And I just wanted, I wanted to go home for a while.”

“You went  _ back _ ?” Lilli sounded incredulous, and rightfully so. They had both grown up in that town, in the shadows of the convent and the asylum. And after everything that had happened, there had been this unspoken agreement between them that they would never look back; that they would never  _ go _ back.

“I was feeling a little lost Lilli,” Edna explained, “Everything seemed so big and new, I just wanted to go back to a time when the world seemed smaller, simpler.”

“So you went back to the place where you were held prisoner for ten years?” Lilli’s tone had gone from incredulous to skeptical. Edna really couldn’t explain it any better.

“Lilli look, I have some stuff I still need to work out, I can’t really explain it but maybe Harvey-” she paused for a second, “Lilli can you put Harvey on the phone?”

Lilli was silent a moment, “I’ll be right back,”

When the line picked back up, it wasn’t a soft spoken girl that answered, it was a wiseass, wisecracking stuffed blue rabbit, “Hello Edna!”

“Harvey,” Edna greeted.

“Where are you?” Harvey asked, “Lilli’s been worried sick! As well as those other two,” Harvey didn’t care for adult figures, but he tolerated the Schwarzes because they made Edna and Lilli happy.

“I… I went home Harvey,” Edna told him.

“You did  _ what _ ?” the rabbit scoffed, “Why would you want to do a thing like that?”

“I… I felt lost,” Edna twirled the coiled cord of the phone around her finger, “I just, I wanted to go home.”

“And remember what happened the last time we did that?” he replied pointedly, “We found nothing more than a dilapidated old building. One we had to leave immediately because Doctor Marcel found us. Do you want to risk him putting you back in that cell again? Trying to erase your memories again? Edna, I’m not with you right now, if he does, you’ll be stripped of everything that makes you you, all that creativity, all that fun. I can’t believe I’m the one saying this but… how could you be so irresponsible?”

“That’s rich, coming from you Harvey,” Edna scoffed back, “And actually, things have… changed. I don’t know when I’ll be coming home, but you know I have to do this.”

Harvey was silent for a moment, then he sighed, “I know. Does Lilli?”

“Could you, could you explain it to her for me?” Edna asked.

“I’ll do my best, but Edna,” he told her, “Be careful.”

“Careful is my middle name,” Edna assured him.

“I thought your middle name was inflamator,” Harvey joked, “Take care Edna.”

“I will Harvey,” she replied. The line was silent for a moment, and then Edna took a chance,”Lilli?”

“I heard,” she said, voice a little tart, “I trust you Edna, but please; come home soon.”

“I…” Edna hesitated, “I can’t promise that Lillifred. I promise as soon as I work everything out I will though, okay?”

“Bye Edna,”

“Take care,”

Edna let out a sigh as she hung up the phone. Why did Lilli have to be so difficult sometimes? Yes, Edna knew they were both traumatized from the events of their childhoods here in this town, but it wasn’t all bad, was it really?

“Well now,” the Keymaster drawled, “Wasn’t that an interesting conversation?”

Edna whirled around, “Were you listening in the whole time?”

“No, only once ten minutes passed.”

“I thought you said that you would come and hang up for me if I went over,”

“You were having an interesting conversation,” he repeated, “Far more amusing to listen in than to hang up on you. Were you speaking to Harvey?”

“You can hear him?”

“No, not really,” the Keymaster admitted, “But I assumed the silence from the other end of the line was because you were speaking to him. Who I  _ don’t _ know, however, is this Lilli you kept referring to.”

“I thought you might, if I think about it,” Edna replied, “Didn’t you say you only got the bar because of a little blonde angel?”

“I might have,” he drawled, “Why do you ask?”

“I want to know if it’s relevant or not, isn’t that what you said?”

“What are you willing to tell me in return?”

“Nothing,”

“Then I suppose it’s a moot point, isn’t it?”

“Alright,” Edna shrugged unaffectedly, “It doesn’t matter to me if you know who you should be grateful to or not.  _ I _ already know who took care of that old bartender for you.”

“Was it Lilli then?” the Keymaster raised a brow.

“Why should you care?” Edna shot back.

“Well, we could play this game all day, couldn’t we?” the Keymaster asked her.

“We could,” Edna admitted, “Except, I don’t want to.”

“Edna not wanting to play a game?” the Keymaster raised a brow at her, “I’m speechless,”

“And yet, words keep coming out of your mouth.” Edna teased.

The Keymaster let out a sigh and walked away. More out of morbid curiosity than anything Edna followed him. Even after a week of living here again she was still impressed with the renovations he’d accomplished in just three short years. That still didn’t mean she liked the color scheme he’d picked. And she had half a mind… well, she had half a mind in general but in this instance it was to paint the walls in every color she could think of. Anything to stop the memories of Doctor Marcel’s asylum. But the Keymaster wasn’t preoccupied with any of that. As a matter of fact, he was headed outside. Edna still couldn’t reconcile the idea of him liking the outdoors, not with the way he’d railed at her for letting her out all that time ago. Then again, he’d been afraid to be outdoors because he didn’t have a harmless -er,  _ relatively _ harmless way to manage his own issues. Hunting apparently did that for him.

“Is there a particular reason why you’re following me?” he asked once they got to the back door.

“Just curious I suppose,” Edna replied, “You said you like hunting, but what do you do with the animals?”

“Typically them being dead is all I really have need of them for,” he informed her, “Sometimes I skin them and use them in personal recipes,”

“Oh, like what?”

“Hare soup,” he deadpanned, looking right at her. And Edna had a sudden flashback to three years ago, when she had stood before him after letting him out of his cell. A remark made back then would have made Harvey startle, just like he did when she’d reunited him with Poozie.

“Sounds delicious,” she replied, if only to throw him off his guard.

“You’d be surprised,” the Keymaster said, “With the right spices, anything can taste good.”

“Do you catch anything other than rabbits?”

“My, my, aren’t you inquisitive today?” he folded his arms. But unlike the situation on how he had created this new life of his, he was more willing to talk about this, “Sometimes. Not usually though. Once I even caught a deer. The meat I use for cooking, the bones get discarded, the skin,” he shrugged, “Sometimes I clean the pelts and sell them.”

“And the other times?”

“I’m not certain you want to know,” he replied darkly, “It’s a rather grisly hobby, I’ll admit. But better to be a danger to wild animals than one to domesticated humans. At least I won’t get thrown in an asylum for setting up traps in the woods.”

“Don’t you think that’s bad for the ecosystem?”

“It would be worse for this town’s if I didn’t.”

“True, true,” after a beat she continued, “Can I come with you?”

“Absolutely not,”

“But why?”

“Because, I’m checking my traps. And I hide them very, very well. You, being your precocious little self, will end up setting the ones that haven’t yet caught anything off. And I only want to reset the ones that  _ have _ done what they need to do if you don’t mind.”

“Well what am I supposed to do then?” Edna protested, setting her hands on her hips.

“That is not a concern of mine,” the Keymaster replied, “You’ll simply have to find some way to entertain yourself while I am out and about.”

“But- but- that’s not fair! You don’t even have TV in here.”

“I do, it’s just in my room, since I never have guests.”

“Can I watch it?”

“No,”

Edna blew a raspberry at him, “Stingy!” she accused, “You better hope I don’t burn the house down out of boredom while you’re gone.”

“You won’t,” his self-confidence irritated her.

“And why not?”

“Because,” though his tone was even, neutral, there was smugness just  _ radiating _ off of him. Smugness Edna wanted nothing more than to wipe off of him, “This house holds too many memories for you to just burn it down. Besides, I already locked away everything remotely destructive while you were on the phone.”

“That should have taken longer than ten minutes,”

“The shed was already sealed,”

“Now that’s cheating,” Edna pouted, folding her arms under her chest.

“You could call it that,” the Keymaster admitted, even as he ducked his head away from her, “Or you could call it a sense of self-preservation.”

“You cause someone to fall off a balcony  _ one time _ ,” Edna muttered, shaking her head in both amusement and mock-irritation.

“Well,  _ you _ didn’t have to heal a broken bone poorly only to have it rebroken so it could heal properly once you were able to have it looked at, now did you?” he countered, “Try running a bar with only one good hand and a single employee who’s only good at cooking. And with that,” he opened the back door began walking outside, “I’ll bid you good afternoon.”

“Wait!” Edna called after him, but it was too late. He’d already gone. Bummer, she’d wanted to ask him what he’d meant with the whole broken arm thing. With a huff Edna returned to her borrowed room. It was so odd to think about, the fact that it had once been her father’s room. The walls were barren and bland, just like the ones in the rest of the house. Edna sighed again, the Keymaster was a real piece of work. Looking for something to do Edna rifled through her duffle bag, idly noting she’d need to do laundry soon as she was almost out of clean clothes. Her art supplies called to her, and then she noticed, she’d packed her paint set without even thinking about it. Tubes of vivid color, her palette, and a few brushes. Hmm, interesting…

Should she? Edna was at war with herself. On the one hand, this wasn’t her home anymore and she couldn’t just do as she pleased. The Keymaster might be tolerating her presence but there was no way he’d accept any cosmetic changes to his living space she made in the interest of good taste. On the  _ other _ hand… she always loved making mischief and causing aggravation. And technically, he’d never said she couldn’t draw on the walls, so really, wasn’t that  _ his _ mistake? Quick and quiet as a churchmouse, as she was half-expecting this to have all been a test to see if she wouldn’t snoop around further if he made a show of leaving her alone for an undisclosed amount of time. The kitchen was empty, perfect. She procured a glass and filled it with tap water and hurried it back upstairs. Welp, that was everything she needed setup. The canvas, the colors, the cleanup. Now the question remained, what to paint?

The Keymaster returned home after an hour or two out in the wilderness. Something about it soothed him, which wouldn’t have been odd in and of itself if part of that relaxing quality hadn’t stemmed from the enjoyment of checking traps for dead animals. He had a few, which he’d need to deal with, but perhaps later, when his inquisitive little houseguest was asleep. No matter her earlier words, her best friend hadn’t been a stuffed rabbit for no good reason, which meant she had an attachment to the species. The Keymaster sighed, yes, better to wait until late at night when he’d be less likely to be disturbed. He’d been more and more restless as of late, something he could only attribute to her continued presence in his life and his home. His darker urges still yearned for some punishment, while his good sense told him people would notice if Edna suddenly went missing. He’d heard the phone call, she wasn’t alone anymore. She had people who cared about her, who would definitely wonder where she went if they didn’t hear back from her. And no doubt they’d saved the number she’d called from in case she called again. It was too messy to even consider attempting. But he was still on edge, something he only belatedly realized after cracking the neck of an already deceased rabbit. He remained in the woods longer than needed, solely to keep his fingers from doing anything he might later regret.

When he did return home, he found Edna in the kitchen, drying off a water glass and setting it in the rack. Her posture was relaxed, but in a more forced manner.

“Welcome back,” she greeted, cheerful enough. But he knew her better than that. Knew how to read people better than that. There was something off about her, she was hiding something. The only question was, what?

In the end, it was only thanks to his incredible perception that he caught it. A small smudge of color underneath one of her perpetually tired eyes. Barely there, and almost hardly noticeable. But when he did, he noticed the other small splotches on her jeans. What had she been up to?

“What did you do?” he asked her, not responding to her greeting with one of his own.

“What do you mean?” she asked in reply.

“You’re hiding something from me Edna,” his voice was almost singsong, but with an undercurrent of (at the moment anyways) playful malice.

She froze. Like he’d said, she was a good actress, just a terrible liar. And yet, that seemed to be the course she was setting for herself anyways.

“Who me? No, not at all,” her grin was insincere, and her words hollow and phony. It should have irritated him, but her good humor was naive and innocent. Whatever she’d done, it was simply another one of her childish pranks. He could only hope that his home didn’t bear the marks of her touch, like the walls of the asylum had as he’d made his way to the getaway vehicle. Edna  _ did _ like to make her presence known.

“Then care to tell me why you have paint on you?” he countered.

“What? No I don’t,”

“Yes, you do.”

“Prove it,”

“Are we really going to resort to this?” he asked. He was tired, and while Edna was fun to rile up, it wasn’t exactly appreciated when she was the one doing the riling.

“Resort to what?” Edna asked, all faux innocence.

“Edna, stop it,” he sighed, “I can see the paint on your clothes and your hair. Just tell me, what did you destroy this time?”

“I didn’t destroy anything,” Edna pouted, placing her hands on her hips. Wasn’t she just  _ adorable _ when she was petulant? The wayward thought caught him off guard.

“Edna,” his tone was a warning. Rather than try and continue their verbal bout she simply tipped out and ran off. Her mischievous giggle echoed down the hall. The Keymaster sighed, and followed anyways.

The house didn’t look any different to how he had left it. That was, until he had the notion to check the guest room. And then he was met with a stained paintbrush to the face. Edna couldn’t contain herself any longer and burst out laughing,

“You look ridiculous!” she pointed at him even as she doubled over with mirth.

The Keymaster didn’t have to look in a mirror to know she was right. The trajectory of the paintbrush had left a streak of wetness, some obnoxious color no doubt, in a diagonal streak down his face. He wanted to be mad, since he had no art supplies in his house and she hadn’t brought a canvas, until he saw the result. Where had once been neutral walls in rather clinical colors, there was now a motif of color and emotion. Reds and yellows and oranges, it was like being immersed in autumn, or perhaps a gentle fire. It didn’t necessarily match the decor of the room, but the effect was rather… calming. He couldn’t say wholeheartedly he disliked it.

“Um,” Edna hesitated, was the Keymaster really so mad? “Keymaster?”

He looked over at her, stripe of color on his face and all, “Well done Edna,” he praised, “You’re quite a good artist.”

Edna couldn’t explain why the comment made her cheeks heat.

E&H

“Alright,” Edna looked expectantly between her notepad and her table, “What’ll it be tonight ladies?”

Apparently it was Girl’s Night Out for this group of girls, and they chose to spend it at this bar. She had noticed that a lot, this bar attracted a good deal of female customers, despite the village itself not really having anything else going for it. Well, besides the views, but she was automatically biased against them because of everything that had happened. Still, if nothing else, a local watering hole was nothing to scoff at. It was a mark of how ingrained the culture was to their society, even the asylum had had a bar.

Out of the four women at the table, three of them gave regular drink orders. But the fourth, oh the fourth. The fourth looked a bit tipsy already -another thing that confused Edna, if you already had liquor you’d paid for at home, why bother going out to a bar?- and with her hand in her chin, slyly replied,

“I’ll take a shot of Eddie, if you don’t mind,”

Her girls hissed, with both amusement and embarrassment at her brashness. Edna was still confused though. As far as she knew, “Eddie” wasn’t a drink on the menu. At least, not a drink the Keymaster had told her about. Maybe it was one of those off-menu things. A lot of places did that nowadays, she just never expected it to be something he’d know or even care about incorporating into his business model. Even if it wasn’t a mixed drink of some kind, she didn’t know of any alcohol which had the name, or even nickname, of Eddie.

“Excuse me?” Edna’s pen hovered over her notepad, unsure of what else to do in that situation.

“Oh don’t mind her,” one of the other women said, “She started drinking a little early tonight-”

“Oh you  _ know _ what I mean sweetheart,” the other woman slurred, “You get to keep such a handsome man like Edward to yourself all the time. But you’re not together. Surely you don’t mind if we take a shot at him, right?”

“Michelle,” another one tried to shush her, “They’re clearly a couple, you can’t just go asking to take shots at people’s significant others like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Edna cut in, “Did you say couple?”

“Well, obviously,” the third woman replied, “You’re the only woman Edward has ever wanted anything to do with. He wouldn’t be like that if you weren’t a couple, right? I mean, you  _ are _ a couple, aren’t you?”

“Me… and Edward, a couple,” Edna was trying to process this when other tables started getting involved,

“Of course she’s dating him, why else would she come to this little nothing of a town. Pretty city girl like her? Even if she’s from here I don’t see why else she’d come back if it wasn’t for love.”

On and on this went until the whole bar was abuzz with it. Quickly, Edna retreated to behind the bar, where “Edward” waited, and he looked both amused and somewhat horrified.

“Edna, what on earth did you do?” he asked her, “I know that they’re all probably drunk out of their minds right now but what on earth are they even talking about?”

“They think we’re a couple,” Edna replied, “I didn’t do anything to provoke it, I swear!”

“For once, you don’t need to protest your innocence,” Edward replied, “I believe you. I forgot to take into account how rumors work in a small town,”

“Rumors?”

“Edna,” he spoke in a low tone, there were still nosey patrons listening in at the bar, “I’ve kept to myself for the longest time. I don’t  _ do _ romance or relationships, least of all with anyone in this town. In order to allay suspicion with your arrival we let it be known we have a previous association. And I seriously doubt we’ve avoided being seen going to the same house all this time. Of  _ course _ they would think we’re a couple, you’re the only one I show any interest in. I should have known better than to believe they would keep their over-romanticized minds from misconstruing things.”

“So what do we do now?”

“We tell them the truth, there’s nothing to fear from that,” he told her. Turning his attention to the bar, he projected his voice, “So, apparently there are rumors going around about my love life. More specifically, about the actual nature of the relationship I share with Edna. allow me to clarify to all of you right here, right now; Edna and I are old acquaintances. Friends, we are not nor have we ever been in a romantic relationship, and neither of us has ever harbored any feeling for one another that even remotely cross the threshold of platonic into romantic. That is the way it is intended to remain, and I’ll thank you all to mind your own business instead of mine.”

One might have expected that given how he typically ran his bar, Edward’s little declaration would have silenced the gossips indefinitely. If for no other reason than the dangerous air that usually surrounded him. But the problem was, Edna softened that part of him, or at the very least she provided a welcome distraction at opportune moments. And because she had that kind of influence over him, conscious of it or not, no one really took the underlying threat in his tone seriously. Especially not those with more than one drink in their system.

“Oh yeah?” one of the more brazen ones challenged, “Prove it, kiss.”

For two people who had spent a good deal of time in an insane asylum, where there were all sorts of wacky shenanigans going on at any time of the day, even  _ this _ seemed crazy to them.

“Wh-what?” they sputtered, trying to find a way to contain it but it was no use. Everyone agreed this was the only way and as excitement escalated, so too did their voices. Chants of, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” filled the bar, accompanied by the rhythmic pounding of fists against tables. No matter what either of them said the crowd would not be quelled until their demands were met.

Edward could feel his blood pressure, and his temper, rising. This was his bar,  _ his _ domain. This was the one place where his word was law. They simply couldn’t demand that he do something, paying customers or no. His only service to them was putting booze in a glass or food on a plate. He did not,  _ would _ not, be bullied into submission. And he had a few bottles on hand that would help prove his point.

There was just one snag, Edna. Edna didn’t like to hurt people when she could avoid it. Wanton destruction at a moment’s notice? Sure, but she destroyed objects, not people. And she could probably feel the dangerous aura starting to grow around him. A delicate hand on his shoulder let him know that, yes, she could. But it was enough to break him through the red murderous haze that had began to cloud his vision. His gaze flicked to the side, where he read concern etched all across her features,

“It’s alright,” she said quietly, “It’s one kiss. Let’s just do it and get it over with.”

Though he did not respond verbally, there must have been a question in his countenance, because she added, “I don’t want you to get in trouble, and I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

But that was the problem, he  _ wanted _ to hurt someone. His fingers itched, twitched,  _ begged _ to enact some well deserved pain. The rhythmic chanting only compounded the issue. Maybe she saw his fingers flex inward and outward, looking for something to get a hold on; because the hand on his shoulder move to lightly touch his cheek, gaining his attention. And he saw the unspoken permission in her eyes.

His own hand moved of its own accord and clutched at the side of her face. Then there was surging movement, and their lips touched. He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t mentally stable enough to be gentle. So his kiss was bruising, punishing, everything he wanted to do to the plebians surrounding them but she would never let him. Idly he felt her hands cover his own, before sliding down his arms and clutching desperately at the crooks in his bent elbows. How long this, rather chaste all things considered, kiss lasted neither of them could tell. They only drew away when their lungs burned for air. The lingering resonance of boisterous cheers resonated around them.

Slowly, Edward released his grip on Edna’s face. Her hands mechanically detached from his arms and fell only to hang limply at her sides. In a halting manner, Edward took one step back from her, then two. There were sly and knowing murmurs circling the crowd as they tried to recover from what should have been no big deal. Right, the villagers agreed, there was absolutely  _ nothing _ going on between them. That’s why that kiss had been so earth-shattering. Sure…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please leave me a comment and let me know what you thought. Thanks again for reading, and I'll see you next time

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought. Thank you for reading, until next time everyone!


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